


Superbia

by ColorfulStabwound



Series: Scorpius Malfoy Presents the Seven Deadly Sins [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Pride, Seven Deadly Sins, Superbia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 17:23:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3142559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorfulStabwound/pseuds/ColorfulStabwound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sing one for me?"</p>
<p>"They're all for you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Superbia

**Author's Note:**

> Endless love to my friend, writing partner, and muse of all things, Unkissed.
> 
>  
> 
> For Albus, our favorite boy in the band.

— _I am so proud of you that it makes me proud of me. I hope you know that._

 

Long before the fame and the glitter of flashing lights and the fear of falling apart is where you find yourself now. You are sixteen years old and on the very cusp of your life. Yours is the greatest life that you can imagine, far better than anyone else around you and sometimes you cannot help but feel _so_ damn good about that.

 

You will never get tired of watching him.

 

When you are curled up on the mothy sofa in his basement watching him shine you feel like you are on top of the world just for standing so close to his light. You can be anything at all when he looks at you _just like that_ and you revel in the way his lingering gaze alone is enough to send a shiver straight down your spine. The way his lips form each word that flow from them borders on obscene and you know that you shouldn’t be thinking about him like _that_ in the presence of so many other people, but you really cannot help yourself at all and so you flow with it instead. Your left hand sweeps over the paper in your lap of its own accord and it is a visible representation of what you feel on the inside.

 

When the music stops, your ears are still humming and your blood is still pumping and you toss aside your sketchpad and jump up out of your seat.  “You were brilliant.” You murmur in his ear as your arms slide around his neck and you never for a moment think that it will ever be anything other than just like this. “We still have a long way to go,” He says with a faint chuckle that tinkles softly against your skin and it swirls all of those dirty thoughts inside of you just a little bit more and you shiver again.

 

He’s sticky and sweaty and the musty odor that seems to hang in the basement has effectively seeped into his clothing and you love every bit of it and of him.  “I think it was perfect.” You counter around a soft sigh as your eyes slide closed, and when one of the guys clears his throat you instantly blush and your eyes snap back open because the illusion is shattered.

 

“Well, you were all brilliant, obviously.” You grin at the rest of Albie’s band who collectively roll their eyes at you and shake their heads as they say their goodbyes and take their leave. “I mean it, you guys are going to be great on Friday!” You call after them as they shuffle up the stairs in a line, which earns you some good-natured chuckles and a smart remark from the drummer.

 

When they are gone your attention shifts back to Albus who was busy tending to his guitar, and you take to watching him quietly. “We really need to get a better practice space.” He is muttering more to himself than to you and when you cross the small space towards him and sit yourself on the top of his amp he grins over his shoulder at you.  “What’d you draw?” His brow quirks and his chin nudges towards the sofa where your abandoned sketchpad still sat.  “Nothing good.” You reply airily and shrug a shoulder because it was the truth.

 

“I doubt that.” He adds a bit more seriously as he moves over to the sofa to peer down at the rough sketch, guitar still in hand. “How come you only ever draw me?” He murmurs, glancing at you again over his shoulder.  “Because you’re all that I see.” You reply almost instantly and never had a truer word been spoken.

 

His cheeks instantly flood with color, which you find terribly attractive and you hop off the amp and join him at the foot of the sofa.  “One day the world is going to love you as much as I do.” Your arms snake around his middle and your head rests against his shoulder as you speak and there is nowhere else that you would rather be in the entire world.

 

∞

 

It had been a stroke of luck that had afforded Albus and his band an opportunity to play in front of a live audience. Sure, it was mostly friends and family that had come out to support them, but for some of them it was their very first chance to see Albus shine.  At sixteen you had no resentment and were completely void of disillusionment, there was only pride. Pride that swelled so big inside of you that it could, at times, hardly be contained.

 

You were standing backstage with him just moments before he was going to walk out there and make them love him in all new ways and you were so happy and grinning so big that you were quite sure you looked manic. “Sing one for me?” Your fingertips lingered on the inside of his wrist as you spoke and it sent a faint splash of color over the bridge of his nose. “They’re all for you.” He murmured a bit sheepishly and your heart soared above the clouds.

 

Out in the audience it is harder to forget the world around you and focus on Albus like you usually do. It is impossible to ignore the thrill of the moment and the way the people all around you reacted to the performance. You sing along to every song and when his eyes meet yours, understanding passes between you and that old familiar sensation twists your insides tight.

 

By the time the band finishes their set you are practically shaking with pent up emotions. You try your best to carry on conversations with the people milling about and just about every word out of your mouth is praise to your very favorite boy in the band.

 

“You’re going to give me a complex.” He whispers in your ear from behind and when you squeal in delight and twist around to throw your arms around him, he can only laugh amusedly at your excitement. “You were great!” You say, pulling back enough to look at him properly and even though his hair is stuck to his forehead with sweat he still looks absolutely perfect to you.

 

It is a long while still before you find yourself back at Malfoy Manor with him. The sun has long since disappeared and the old house is quiet like death. He is still riding the highs of being on stage, you can clearly see it in the gleam of his dark gaze and the grin that does not fade and it makes your heart swell so large that you can hardly breathe. When you climb into your bed together you are happy for this special night and thankful that your father likes to play the oblivious game where you and Albus are concerned. He is a large part of the reason that the two of you spend most of your nights together at the manor because the deviant things that you get up to in the dark would never fly under the radar in the Potter household.

 

When you kiss him he tastes like your mother’s Bombay Sapphire and fame and it tastes so good on your tongue that you never want to stop. You worship him in ways that border on the line of unhealthy but you can’t be bothered to care. He had effectively ingrained himself into your life from almost the moment the two of you had met and now his soul was so utterly intertwined with yours that the thought of his absence was almost unbearable.  You don’t know it yet but that fear will become a painful reality all too soon and you will spend a good deal of the next year of your life in a depression so deep that you are numb.

  
But none of that matters tonight.

 

Tonight you are happy and content to bask in his presence and his love and it is more than enough because you know that he has helped mold you into a person you can be proud of.  And you are.

**Author's Note:**

> Quote at the beginning of this work graciously borrowed from John Green.


End file.
